Home
by EclecticLady-LimitedEdition
Summary: A tribute for the ambiguous and sharptongued Potions Master we loved in some way or fashion. This is his journey home.


I think that all of us that were hoping he was going to haunt the school for ages, terrorizing students with his sharp, cold words and billowing about like a great dungeon bat this…._this_ is for us. And for him.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, not me

…

It was strange that he would be sprawled on the ground and it would be silent—that was the first thing he realized. Of all the times he had been on the ground, face down, there had usually been jeers and laughter. The silence surrounding him unnerved him as he lay there, warm but with the vague sense that he was unclothed. It was too strange.

Severus Snape pushed himself up off the ground but then stopped, staring at his now blank left forearm. He felt all the breath leave him as he looked at his own clear, pale skin.

It was gone. The Dark Mark that he had foolishly taken because he had thought it would make him greater; the Dark Mark that had lingered on his skin for so many years and never faded entirely; the very mark that had symbolized everything he had cared for, destroyed.

_Lily_.

Severus stood up then, realized he was indeed naked, and was then clothed in his usual black. That squared away, he looked around, taking in the white, hazy surroundings of what appeared to be a very familiar train station…

"So you are here then," said a familiar voice from behind Severus, who whipped around very fast and stopped at the sight that he couldn't believe was there, in front of him, that couldn't possibly be there but was.

"Hello again, Severus," said Lily Potter, looking not a day older than twenty-one. She was smiling very brightly at him, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "It's been a very long time."

Severus wanted to run forward and hold her to him and never let go, to apologize for all the things he had ever done to offend her…to kill her. But he didn't; he stood very still, feeling the cool flush in his cheeks as he drank in the sight of her standing there, looking like she was about to cry yet still smiling so beautifully.

Lily glanced behind her shoulder where the train tracks were and then back at Severus before saying, "The train's a bit late, but it'll be here soon."

"Train?" Severus asked, subtly moving a little closer to where she stood. Lily nodded and a tear escaped from her right eye and glistened delicately on her cheek; Severus moved a little closer still and wiped the tear away with his thumb. "What train is that?" he added.

"The one that'll take us home," she said, and her eyes seemed to shimmer even more, tears threatening to make their way down her rosy cheeks.

Feeling a rush of anger at these words, Severus turned away from the sight of her, scowling. He walked a few feet away, almost back to where he had stood before, and then stopped abruptly. Severus inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself before acting rashly or violently. Finally, he relaxed.

"I have no home," said Severus quietly. "I have not had a home like the one you are thinking of for a very long time."

"Yes you do," Lily said, and Severus could hear her as she moved toward him. "Yes you do."

"Do I?" he asked, turning to look into her face, which was now wet.

"You have for all these years since that night nearly eighteen years ago," she replied. She took his hand—which had been trembling without his knowing—and held it in hers; Severus felt his fingers tingle. "I came here to go with you on the train—the others will be waiting for you—for us."

_For us_. It seemed to hang suspended in front of Severus' eyes in translucent ink, lingering there like a visible echo. How long had he wanted to hear that again? Since fifth year, when he had made his first mistake in calling her that wretched name that didn't suit her or anyone, when he had severed their friendship and practically pushed her into James Potter's embrace…

_Potter_.

And he tore himself away from her, stalking away at the very thought of who she had _really_ loved and then who she had really died for…who he himself had died for. A vague, distant memory that couldn't have been even an hour old entered his mind then: green eyes staring into his, scared, brave, pitying, repulsed, and some other thing mingled in that Severus could not identify.

"Severus—"

"Your son," Severus interrupted coolly, "he was there when I died."

Lily didn't respond but was silent.

"I gave him all the memories that would help him understand, incompetent as he is," Severus continued, "what Dumbledore never told him. With any luck, or divine intervention, he'll figure out what needs to be done and destroy the Dark Lord."

"Harry will figure it out, Severus. I'm sure your memories will play a pivotal role," Lily added.

Not knowing how to reply or whether he should, Severus simply nodded imperceptibly, continually not looking at her. The bitter feelings that had emerged at the thought of James Potter had not faded yet.

"Severus, thank you."

It was said so very quietly that Severus could have easily been convinced that he had imagined it had the slight sniffle not accompanied it.

"I'm so proud—I'm so sorry—"but the rest of Lily's words were drowned out as she began to cry in earnest.

Severus did not turn to her immediately, but stood rigidly where he was.

"What do you mean?" he asked softly.

"You w-were rea-ally b-brave," she said, her voice strained and brittle, on the verge of breaking. "W-when you vowed to keep Harry safe, I was t-touched and sorry th-that you were so com-completely…" but she broke off, overwhelmed once again.

Severus turned and, seeing her look so uncharacteristically weak, went over to her but did not touch or attempt to comfort her. Lily wiped at her eyes repeatedly with the edge of her sleeve but it was in vain—tears continued to fall, though they became fewer with Severus' presence. After several long moments that could've been years, Lily regained hold of herself, hiccups dying away.

"What I did," Severus began, "was out of love, not for your son, but for you." He paused, slightly pink and uncomfortable that he had admitted something so personal only Dumbledore had known, but then continued, "It was never—_never_—my intention in all my life to have you hurt or die. What happened after you did was…something painful enough that I would've perished there in Dumbledore's office had he not given me the task of keeping your son safe—all for you."

Severus boldly took hold of one of Lily's shaking hands in his own and said finally, "I…_I'm_ sorry, Lily, that I ever let any of this happen to you and,"—he swallowed to relieve the constriction he felt in his throat and to cast aside his pride and the bitterness he had felt for so long—"and your family."

And then Lily's arms were around him, in an embrace he had only ever dreamed of being in, and his were around her. The feeling of happiness that he had so rarely known in his childhood and adolescence (primarily in the company of Lily) swelled up in him until he began to genuinely smile. And it did not fade, the smile or his happiness, as they broke apart at the sound of a train pulling into the only too familiar yet hazy King's Cross Station, steam billowing up and drifting down to settle and linger about their ankles.

When the train had come to a complete stop, a lone door opened, and a thin, tall old man with a crooked nose and half-mooned spectacles came out, a benign smile on his face and the usual twinkle in his blue eyes. Severus' happiness turned to an ugly hybrid of delight and self-loathing even as Lily left his side and went over to shake hands with Albus Dumbledore.

"It's great to see you again!" she cried, her smile becoming even brighter. "What are you--?"

"I am about to be meeting a mutual friend of ours," Dumbledore told her kindly, his gaze flickering over to Severus. "They'll be here very shortly."

Lily looked as if she were about to ask who it was that he was meeting, but Dumbledore had already started toward Severus, a very knowing look in his gaze. Severus regarded him silently not sure what to say to the man that he had _helped_ to pass on. Dumbledore's smile did not waver if he had picked up on Severus' thoughts.

"Well, Severus, it has been a year now, hasn't it?" Dumbledore said. "Yet you still wear black to mourn myself? I am touched."

Severus grimaced at the attempt at a joke. Dumbledore continued on, chuckling to himself.

"I am glad that you have been greeted here by someone that has been in your thoughts all these years. The others are awaiting your arrival as well." He paused and looked down at Severus with a curious look before saying in a gentle and quiet tone, "There is no need to feel any guilt over my death, Severus. It was what _I _wanted, and you were kind and brave enough to fulfill my request. If you are thinking of apologizing, do not—it should be myself thanking you."

Severus, feeling exposed even though he knew he was not naked anymore, turned away from the old man's gaze to Lily, who stood by the open train door, watching them. He started at a hand suddenly on his shoulder; Dumbledore was smiling at him again. There was a sense of finality in the moment.

"I think it's time," Dumbledore said, addressing both Severus and Lily. "You should board the train before it leaves—the wait for the next train is far too long in my opinion," he added amusedly. "We will meet again, I am sure."

Understanding that he was dismissed, he left Dumbledore and went to where Lily stood, feeling free. Although he was not certain that he could forgive himself for what he had done, Dumbledore's unusual gratitude mollified him enough that he smiled slightly at the former headmaster before he clamored aboard behind Lily, the train door shutting magically behind him. Together they settled in the nearest compartment and looked out the window at Dumbledore, who waved at them as if they were on their way to Hogwarts for another year of magical education.

"I wonder who he's meeting," Lily said vaguely, waving back. Severus shrugged though a shrewd idea of who it might be was forming in his mind.

In a light, flippant tone he said,"It will probably be one of those insufferable Weasleys or—"

"Severus!"

Severus smiled again as the train began to move, but this time at how strange this all seemed; it felt almost like yesterday. Lily was there, seated across from him, looking torn between amusement and outrage. It had been a long time since he had felt this way, content.

It was too strange, but as the train sped up and Dumbledore—still waving at them—went out of Severus' sight, it seemed to feel right.

It felt a lot like home.


End file.
